


Would you live for me, Wade?

by sthaid (orphan_account)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt Peter Parker, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, No Beta We Die Like Soldiers, Recovery, So much angst, Supportive Ellie, Supportive May Parker (Spider-Man), Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, dont expect them to be good though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22490662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sthaid
Summary: It turns out living for someone is harder than dying for them.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Wade Wilson, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	Would you live for me, Wade?

**Author's Note:**

> this was so hard to write you have no idea.
> 
>   
> the last part was written while i blasted Love will set you free by kodaline.

{ yellow }

[ white ]

**Would you live for me, Wade?**

Peter thought about death a lot, it basically came along with the job he voluntarily had agreed on doing after being bitten back when he was a teenager; it was written in tiny words between the lines of the contract for a life as a vigilante. And as scary as it was, Peter would sign that shit a million times if it meant doing what he does.

Even though it could happen at any time, anywhere –alone in the dark, in a busy road, naked in a lab–, Peter had stopped fearing death as much as his first years as Spider-Man, it was a natural part of life, one which he had probably become too comfortable with. The danger and possibility of unrepairable damage are constantly there, it doesn’t have to scream its presence either, since it is definitely not easy to ignore. As much as he tried to get back home in one piece every night after patrol, it was hard to get back to bed with no life-threatening damage that couldn't be easily healed within the week.

Even after meeting Deadpool and having felt the weight of his body protecting him from bullets, or a crumbling wall he was too slow or disoriented to backflip or thwip away from, or just taking unnecessary damage for Peter, his chances of dying weren’t as slim as he thought (or rather wish) they were. When Wade promised him he wouldn’t let anything happen to Peter and death felt almost impossible, since their teamwork was damn near perfection, he knew deep down that there was nothing that could stop it, not even ( ~~the love of his life)~~ someone immortal as Wade.

Which takes us to the scene of Peter being thrown to a wall so harshly by an explosion he couldn’t avoid in time, that a pole impaled his right shoulder, and the debris from the falling building, crushed his left leg and immobilized him. He screamed from agony whilst jolts of pain coursed through him.

Hitting the wall had broken his ribs, and he couldn’t feel his legs, well leg, beneath the rubble. Peter couldn’t look down to see if his crushed leg was still connected to his hip every single movement made his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Every inhalation of air broke his _soul_ from the pain, tears spilled without warning from his eyes and soaked the remaining cloth of his torn mask. His vision was blurry and the amount of pain he felt _everywhere_ made it hard to focus on his surroundings _._ Peter wanted to spit a sob out of his throat, but the thought of the strength needed to create that sound made him want to vomit from the torture that would cause his body. His head throb and his ears rang, everything felt like the end of the world, and maybe this time it finally was.

Maybe this time the tiny letters hidden in the contract had finally caught up to him to collect the unsaid price of such life he lived. Maybe he had gotten to the end of the line. There had been too many close calls, maybe the few drops of good luck he had, had finally run out.

Wade had been the last drop of his luck. Peter was sure falling in love with someone who understood everything about him sounded nothing but a dream. Wade had been a new life, he was his escape from everything, even from himself.

The mercenary had annoyed the living shit out of him the first time they met and Spider-Man has wished to never see him again, now, however, Peter knew every quirk and flaw about Wade, and so did Wade. He knew every detail about Peter. He wished he could see Wade’s smile one last time, feel his scarred hands wipe away his tears, hold him tight and whisper in his ear how everything would be okay, kissing his hair and nose and eyes and everything he could reach, easing away the pain and stress from brows and shoulders. Peter wanted to tell him to love life even without him in it, because Wade deserved to feel safe, and happy, and loved, even if it meant moving on from him after his death.

He couldn’t focus anymore, his eyes rolling at the back of his head in anguish as a heart-breaking sob ripped through his throat, setting his thorax on fire, and shooting raw pain throughout his body, his senses were agonizingly loud, everything felt like nothing and nothing felt like everything. With one last effort, he whispered, alone in the darkness, hoping the wind would take his words into the ears and heart of his one and only.

He took a ragged breath that felt like it might’ve been his last and barely moved his lips when he whispered. “Live for me, Wade”

He wasn’t going to die without a view though, the universe seems to hate him a whole lot, he could see far away, a second building lit up in flames as another explosion roared in the night. With one last quiet sob, memories of Wade lulled him to sleep, and as painful as his body and mind felt, he was happy Wade could hold his soul while he floated away.

* * *

The well-known pain from a broken skull, and spine, and ribs and, well, broken body, woke him up from his visit to Lady Death. She was doing well without him, which he was glad. After he met Peter and tried to stop dying as much, she was quite upset about the lack of company from his part.

“These bombs could have broken my skull _much_ more kindly.” Deadpool spitefully said sitting up while his spine popped back into place and reattach itself to his head, he pulled a piece of metal, who had made itself comfortable at the center of his forehead, out of it, and threw it away somewhere. His mind tried to find its way back into himself, and after a few seconds Wade realized he was missing an arm, but everything else seemed either being popped back in place or severely burned, but at least attached.

“Well isn’t this view gorgeous,” Wade said sarcastically, stretching his back and left arm in the air, popping the last bones into place. The view he woke up _was_ pretty, viewed from a photographer's eye obviously, a firefighter would absolutely be sobbing. Peter would be shaking in excitement to capture the beauty of the flames licking the clouds and the chaos of the disaster that seemed almost poetic. Wade, however, had become accustomed to waking up, with an angry brown-eyed, sun kissed freckly boy scolding down at him the second he opened his eyes.

_Wade, was that really necessary? I literally choked on your blood_.

_I could’ve caught you if you hadn’t been fooling around, but okay._

_That bullet was not even **meant** to hit either one of us, what the hell DP._

_Next time warn a guy before throwing them off of a crumbling building._

{Definitely prefer Peter’s face than this}

Wade silently agreed, he wasn’t much of an art admirer, unless admiring Peter’s work-of-gods-carved-ass qualified as being one –which Wade highly doubted–, he wasn’t going to stare appreciatively at the flames.

His thoughts stopped dead short when he heard a loud cry of agony that sounded very much like Peter’s voice.

The explosion had been a set up all along, and Spidey’s spider senses caught up on the trap too late. He had said everything felt wrong since the moment they stepped a foot inside the dark, damp building. They _were_ expecting a trap, it was quite obvious actually, but they were not expecting the whole damn building to blow up in pieces right in front and behind their faces. After a few minutes of walking around while hearing voices whispering every few corners, they heard someone laugh, and then Wade had seen stars, he thinks he remembers seeing Spidey avoiding flying objects and he screamed something at him before the rest of the possible hidden explosives blew up. A piece of metal flew right into his forehead, and before he died another explosion blew his right arm straight off his torso and, extremely luckily, out of the crumbling building,

He stood up with effort, dizziness making him stumble a few steps before he regained his balance and cleared his mind.

He knew hadn’t gone insane, or at least more than what he already was.

_I heard a_ _sob_.

The only other person he knew who had been anywhere near him or near the explosion had been Peter.

[He couldn’t have survived through all that]

Wade internally shot his voices several times, before heading to the direction where the biggest amount of rubble rested.

The eerie sounds of fire and whatever type of material the building was made of that crumbled and roll under his feet with every step he made through the chaos had his Deadpool-tingle screaming at him in anxiety.

It didn’t take him long to find Spider-Man, he was wearing red and blue spandex in a disaster where blacks and greys stood out the most. It didn’t make it any easier to see him, though.

Wade’s heart fell like it had been ripped right out of his chest, stabbed, stepped on, spit on and shot 12 rounds of ammo. He could’ve shot himself and the bastards they’ve been chasing around for months right then and there.

Wade stopped breathing and his feet seemed glued to the ground, he was around 40 feet away from Peter in an angle it would’ve been impossible for him to turn around and look, but Wade did look, and it did nothing good for his sanity.

His feet didn’t respond to him, they were glued to whatever was under him. All he wanted to do was run to Peter and _help_ , but he was paralyzed. Let it be because of fear or shock, but paralyzed nonetheless. Peter was dying and he couldn’t even move, let alone operate correctly to know how to save him.

_Not again_. _No, nonononononono_

{You killed him}

[You shouldn’t have gotten near him]

{Just like Vanessa, he died because the only thing you’re good at, is killing}

[You are nothing but a danger]

_How could I hurt him like this? Ruin him like this?_

A few more inches and Peter would have had that pole going straight through his heart and would not be moving his chest as painfully slow as he was right now. Wade knew how painful that was… And _Jeez,_ his femur had to be broken, hips entirely crushed. Peter was leaning forward, letting his head hang down from weakness, no matter how stronger Spidey was from any other normal human this was too much physical trauma for anyone, no one could withstand that much damage and pain.

He saw Peter opened his mouth since the mask was not even covering his face anymore, nothing he could hear came out from his perfect, broken lips, until he swears he saw his mouth move and say his name.

That was when he reacted and started to sprint towards him. He tripped and stumbled rolling on the ground to continue his momentum, and groaned as something stabbed his back, but he stood up and kept running towards Peter.

He screamed his name at the same time an explosion in another building illuminated the dark sky and Peter’s head drop.

“PETER!” Wade yelled and choke on his own words as knots formed on his throat, he felt his eyes burn with unshed tears. “PETER YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE WITHOUT ME.” He sobbed, snatching his glove off of his hand and reaching out for him, his hand caressing Peter’s cheeks wet with tears “…I promised to keep you safe Petey.” Another sob ripped his throat apart as his other shaky hand covered his mouth over his mask to hide the unceremonious noises echoing through the clouds. He’d given his healing factor and life to save Peter right here and now. He'd let the cancer kill him if it meant to save Pete.

“…Pleasepleasepleaseplease…” He wasn’t sure what he was pleading for, but he begged for Peter’s life to anyone willing to listen, to give them both the tiniest bit of hope for salvation. There was no way he could move the boulder crushing Peter’s leg without help, and even if he gained superhuman strength for a second he had no idea if moving it would worsen his state.

Wade waited for a miracle, he waited, and waited… and waited, he sang Peter’s favorite songs while kissing his cheeks, and lips, and eyes, and pleading “Please wake up Petey-pie, please wake up, pleasepleaseplease…”

He sand every song that made Peter laugh and the ones where he joined in at the top of his lungs with a silly smile, and when he ran out of them, because he couldn’t sing anymore hence his cries, or forgot the lyrics from the painful memories that flooded his mind, he began singing the first song that pop to his head to try and quiet down the voices in his head that wanted him death, just as much as he wanted to die.

He sang and sob and begged until Peter’s breathing stop fogging the katana that Wade place under his nose. Wade took his mask off, and with shaky breaths and even shakier hand, he intertwined their fingers and place his forehead on the man he fell in love with, on the man he’d promise to protect, and had failed miserably.

“I’m sorry Petey, I’m sorry baby boy. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you this time. It’s all my fault. Minemine. I’m sorry, imsorryimsorrysosorry…”

After what felt like an eternity he compose himself, clear his eyes, kiss Peter’s cheeks one last time and push the boulder off Peter’s legs. It took several tries and cries of frustration and anger, but once it was off, Wade couldn’t look at his leg for long, it was worse than he thought it would be, so he focused on getting Peter out of the pole.

That night had to be the most painful night he’s ever experienced, even more so than the night Vanessa died, because it was the second time his heart had been broken and destroyed to nothing but fucking dust, and he was not going to get out of this hole of grief again. Nor did he have the reasons to.

* * *

Peter Parker’s memorial had been small, his friends from high-school, college and a few co-workers had all come to mourn him from such a sudden death, even J. J. J. came to pay his respect for the incredible photographer who took the best pictures of the villains and vigilantes of New York.

Vigilantes who had their identities hidden came for a short time, paid their respects and left. Those who were known had come and gone earlier than everyone else. Wade had begged them to keep his identity hidden until the end. He knew how important it had been to Peter, it was a reason why Wade had dressed Peter in his Spider-man suit under the fancy tuxedo, and why his palms sweated every time someone went to see him in the coffin.

Few knew who Wade was and why were him, Eleanor and May Parker comforting each other over the death of May’s nephew. The few who knew about their relationship had silently cried in Wade’s shoulders, murmuring words of “I’m sorry” and “It wasn’t your fault, Wade” however all the condolences given to him in delicate hugs and shaky voices sounded like white noise under the agonizing screaming of White and Yellow that made his hands shake with pain and self-hatred.

Eli didn’t let go of his hand through the entire memorial, she cried quietly through her own pain, but every time she looked at her father’s heartbroken eyes and the emptiness in his words every time he spoke, her heart shattered in a million more pieces, and her tears tasted even more bitter.

Eli had to let go of Wade’s hand eventually, and let him walk slowly to Peter’s coffin.

Peter looked asleep, not a passed-out-from-exhaustion-after-an-all-nighter, or an I-had-to-rest-after-being-beaten-up-with-the-suit-on kind of sleep, he looked as peaceful as when he fell asleep in Wade’s arms in the middle of a movie he couldn’t stay awake for, or when they had taken the weekend from saving the city and Wade woke up earlier to see Peter curled up in a pillow with the tiniest of smiles from his dreams.

It broke Wade’s heart to see him resting so peacefully in death, and for the first time in the day his voices finally quiet enough to let him speak. “We had the coolest love story Petey, and you had to be the hero no one deserved, risk your life and end up buried for the rest of my life. Call me selfish all you want, but I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, Parker.” His voice cracked at the end, and he searched for Peter’s hand while brushing the hair off his forehead with his free hand.

“You know, before falling in love with you, one of my worst fears were cows, they’re goddam terrifying Petey don’t you dare judge me–“ He said sadly closing his eyes and caressing his hand, “–but when I realize I wanted to be a better man not only for you but for myself I was terrified of losing you and ending all alone… Again.” He hadn’t allow himself to cry, all his emotions were bottled up in his chest and throat, but feeling Peter’s hand on his own, cold and still, broke the dam. He let he first tears of the night fell from under his closed eyelids, Wade inhale a shaky breath, opened his eyes and look up at the sky. “And now I have to deal with that fear, Petey-pie. I thought I’d overcome it after dealing with Vanessa, but I actually just locked it in a box and forgot all about it.”

He whispered to the sky hoping only Peter could listen to his words. “You have the worst ways to make me face my fears you know that? Loving me was the first, and now leaving? So rude and not gentlemanly from you Peter.” Wade’s cheeks were now wet with hurt. He looked back at Peter for who knows how long, caressing his face and toying with the suit under the tuxedo, until May walked over to him.

“It’s time, dear.” She said, putting a hand on his shoulder, before walking away from the body, Wade grabbed Peter’s ring from this finger, a tear fell to Peter’s cheek, and he brushes it off, saying goodbye. Wade left a piece of himself in that coffin when he let go of Peter’s cheek. He’s lost so much in his life.

[Our body]

{Our sanity}

_Love_

Wade was exhausted, his head was spinning from the weight of his tears, and the sobs he was holding back at the pit of his stomach were starting to rot his throat and lungs, and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t focus, and dammit did it _hurt_.

Love had just been taken away from him, ripped and punctured, destroyed. Love was being buried in a dark tomb with no air, with no light, and there was nothing he could focus on. Nothing made sense. He lost.

He _lost._

He wasn’t moving, pale and weak, and couldn’t _listen_ to anybody else other than the voices wheezing, kicking and destroying the once neat office that Wade had forced them to have because it was easier to keep his thought in order around Peter that way. Peter. _Peter_. Peterpeterpeter. Pe-ter.

“Dad?” Ellie couldn’t breathe, fearful tears adorned her eyes. She had lost a father already. She couldn’t bare lose another one. She held her dad’s hand, calloused, familiar and safe, and she didn’t let go of his hand, even when she let go of the dirt in her other hand dreadfully saying goodbye to a dad she didn’t get enough time with.

Wade was crying. No noise, heart-crushing, trying-to-rip-apart-your-thorax, hands-squeezing-too-hard-on-his-throat-and-not-the-sexy-way, type of crying. He just let go of the light.

Wade was crying. He let fear consume his heart, gently holding Ellie’s hand because he’s be damned if he’d let her go.

~~Only he knew he would. Oh, he would. ~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~

* * *

“Wade, I can’t do this alone, anymore,” May said with a quivery sigh. Running her fingers through her loose hair. She had dark circles under her eyes and a tired aura around her soul. “I’m terrified to touch anything, and the boxes are too heavy, and I-I can’t…. I can’t do this without you. I’m not going to let you drown in this horrible sorrow and… and _guilt_ , you keep swimming in, even when my- _our_ Peter’s gone... I am not going to let you go with him, too.” Her hands shakily reached for Wade, sitting down on the couch with an episode of Golden girl playing in the background.

Wade wasn’t really listening, he respected May and did loved her dearly, but right now not even Bea Arthur could help, he had no idea what either one of them were saying, and he really didn’t care, Wade just hated the silence. He hated sitting down in their… _his_... his fucking apartment, which he so desperately wanted to burn down to the ground and run away from. Every single fucking corner had a memory attached to it. He was losing his mind, staring blankly every single night at the ceiling that Wade had “accidentally” painted a Spider-man and Deadpool mask on. He cried looking at the ceiling and remembering the belly laugh Peter had made, smiling oh so brightly and promising to protect that piece of art with his soul.

He felt empty when he laid down in bed and couldn’t spoon anyone and felt a terrorizing cold in his bones. Nobody came to his rescue when his night terrors came back, and he cried to the sunrise, his body too weak to get up from the bed and do anything at all. Food wasn’t a priority, peeing wasn’t essential, water had seemed unimportant, and slept seemed impossible.

When he began wandering around the cold room, he began noticing details he hated. The bathroom had 2 toothbrushes. The kitchen had 2 cups. The tables had 2 chairs. There were clothes in his closet. There was a fucking hairbrush in the nightstand.

White and Yellow wouldn’t fucking shut upp, either. They only whispered his name and yell for the sweet, oh so sweet release of death. They cry sitting on the couch, looking at the pile of un-played videogames sitting on the coffee table; they cry in the shower looking at Peter’s 2 in 1 shampoo _,_ because _old habits die hard right, Wade._ And his heart fucking breaks, shatters and shoots himself looking at Peter’s college notebooks, CDs and textbooks because _these cost a lot, babe, you better take care of them as good as you take care of that unicorn plushie, you hear me?._

Wade saw monsters in his bed. He walked to the kitchen and he saw demons in there. He sat in the living room, looking out at the city through the window Peter loved jumping out from, and he saw the fire, he tasted the ashes, and he heard his screaming. He moved to the bathroom, and he saw a stranger, a face that even the monsters and demons that chased him around the apartment and the city, feared. 

He thinks he heard May sigh, and he vaguely remembers feeling her hand squeeze his wrist. After who knows how long of him numbly staring at the Tv, May wiped a tear from her cheek and stood up. “Ellie said she’ll come tomorrow.” Wade’s stomach growled in despair. He wanted to agree, but his mouth was dry and he felt death creeping from the bottom of his stomach. Starvation had always been the most painful death, but it definitely hurt less than the agony of being inside his own mind.

“Wade, please… It’s been almost a year. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Grieving is natural, this isn’t.” Her words broke into a quiet sob. May hadn’t just lost a Nephew, she lost her extended family, she lost both of her sons, and her granddaughter had lost two dads.

She went somewhere, Wade really wasn’t interest in knowing where, and came back with a box that said ‘Peter University’ and dropped it in the coffee table. “I found so many notebooks and CDs that have your name on the cover, Wade. Please just… look at them.” She worriedly eyed him while grabbing her keys from the table, and left the apartment.

That was what broke him. Wade looked at the box and stared. He could feel the tears that he had no idea where his body got the water from, drawing lines on his cheek, it was midday, and he thinks the sun had set when he reached forward with a skinny, bony hand and grabbed the box.

It was so heavy. Literally and metaphorically. Wade didn’t really know if that was because he hadn’t eaten in ages and had lost all his muscles, or because the thought of Peter having _notebooks and cd’s like an actual elder, what year did he even live in?_ was emotionally tiring.

The first thing his hand grabbed was a cd, and May was right, it only said _Wade_ , with a smiley face in it. He tried to smile but it hurt, his letter was so familiar, and for a second Wade felt safe.

He stood up with shaky legs, the first time he’d done that since… well, Wade wasn’t sure. He inserted the disk in the cd player, interrumpting Bea Arthur in the middle of a sentence, went back to the couch, and waited for it to load.

The video started, and Peter’s face appeared on the screen. Wade lost his breath, and his voices quiet down for the first time since…... He stared at Peter smiling wildly while holding the camera. It was snowing, and it looked like he was in a park. His nose and cheeks were slightly red from the cold, and the beanie he was wearing did not hide the disaster of his hair.

_“Peter! You know how much I hate being left alone in the **cold**! Come back here before I fall and break this damn ice, I’m not a small size mercenary.”_

Wade heard his voice, but his eyes were still focused on Peter, smiling excitedly at the camera. He remembered this day, they went ice skating because Wade had lost a bet with his obnoxious goody-two-shoes boyfriend, and they went skating before the sun rose.

Peter laughed, and Wade felt a shiver go down his spine. He fucking loved that sound. Angels were _jealous_ of the mountains his laugh could build, destroy and move.

_“Oh, suck it up, you **agreed,** and also lost fair and square,”_ Peter said letting the camera rest on a bench chair while it recorded them in the ice, and walked towards the merc.

_“What makes you think I didn’t just let you win?”_ Wade pointed out, looking at Peter with a raised eyebrow and a teasing smile.

_“ **Because** we would’ve been in our apartment and I’d be doing that thing with my tongue if you have had win, which tells me I won, meaning I’m superior.” _Peter grabbed Wade’s neck and pulled him down for a long kiss, keeping them both steady. Peter grabbed Wade’s hands when the broke away from the kiss and he made them twirl in the ice.

“ _If I didn’t love you, I’d be kicking down that perky ass of yours **through** this ice._” Wade threatened with a goofy smile, his eyes shining while securing his grip on Peter’s hands. Peter laughed and guided them in the ice.

They danced in the ice with ice-skates Wade had sneakily ~~steal~~ borrowed from a closed booth. The video lasted around 15 minutes of them just laughing, Wade wobbling in the skates, and Peter gracefully doing pirouettes and slowly teaching Wade how to move around in the ice. They laughed and kissed, and at some point Wade got handsy, and Peter got clingy, and they hurriedly grabbed Peters's camera and went home.

The video ended with Peter kissing Wade on the cheek when he finally asked why was he filming them, and Peter smiled lovingly while whispering _. To remember how much I love you. Recordings last longer, babe._

Wade was sobbing by the end of the video, hugging a pillow that had a Spider-Man logo embroidered in the fabric. Wade cried while the cd repeated itself another 2 times.

He went peeing right after that. Got himself a cup of water, and cried at how much he missed Peter and the smell of his coconut shampoo.

“I love you, Pete. Petey-pie, baby boy, Webs, Spidey, babe, darling boy, love of my life. I love you”

Wade spent the rest of the night watching and rewatching the CDs, his eyes couldn’t focus through the tears to read what the notebooks had in them, but he was sure he would read them at some point. The videogames in the coffee table were thrown off of it, and cd’s with Peter’s handwriting with a variation of happy faces were adorning the table.

The last cd he grabbed, was the only sad face he had seen drawn from the disks inside the box. Wade, confused by the difference, carefully placed it on the cd player.

Peter was sitting crisscross on their couch wearing Wade’s oversized t-shirt that had Peter’s university name written on it. He had circles under his eyes probably doing an all-nighter, but the light that always shines in them was somewhat off.

_“I don’t really know why I’m making this if I’m being honest–“_ Peter started with a sad look in his eyes, he scratched his messy hair with a pen he had in his hand _–“but you see, my chemistry teacher just lost her wife on a car accident, and she came to school today, and told us to love deeply and fearlessly, to live thoroughly and freely because life isn’t going to wait for a last ‘goodbye’ or a last ‘I love you’ or for ‘what ifs’, and well she went on and on about how we shouldn’t take things for granted and to **live** like if it was our last day… _

_I don’t like thinking about this Wade, but… ever since our first date, I had stopped fearing as much as I did about death because I have you to… lookout and care for me.” Peter sighed, dropped the pen, and pressed his fists in his eyes, grimacing while exhaling._

_“And I take care of you while on patrol, but I-I’m not immortal, DP, and I hate thinking about how you **are**. I’m not about to get into the fear of me aging and becoming a raisin and you being young and hot, because that’s scary, and so far away in the future we can have that talk at **some point–**.” _He dropped his hands to his legs, and played with the hem of the shirt, biting his lip absentmindedly _– “But, you know, I’m thinking about how much I love you and I want every second of our life to be spent as if it was our last, because I don’t know if it will be, and I don’t want to spend a minute without you in my life and… actually, I’m derailing of what I want to say, but that thought ended in me saying I love you.”_ Peter said smiling and looking sweetly at the camera. The light of the sun caught his eyes for a second and his golden eyes sparkled with a flame that Wade knew it only belong to him.

_I love you like I love the freedom of falling, I love you with every single beat of my heart, I love you like clouds need water, it’s such a warm feeling that feels like everything will turn out okay because you’ll be there and I– and I can’t say how much I love you because it’s such a gigantic feeling I can’t even put it into words. There is just so much to say, and I need to record to remember, because recordings last forever, and a word vomit you can hear forever will always be a pretty reminder.”_ Peter sighed, but his eyes reminded soft and full of life and wonders.

_Look, Wade I– What I’m trying to say here is, you’re gone right now, and it made me wonder what would I ever do if I lose you because that shit fucking hurts to think about, but the more I think about it the less of a possibility it seems because firstly you can’t die, and secondly I think you’re as madly in love with me as I am with you, so I’m sitting here with an essay on my hands and I’m thinking, maybe I can’t lose you, but if you ever lose me… well… I– well…”_ He frowned and bit his lip, tears were building in his eyes, as he looked back down to his fidgety hands.

_When I lost Uncle Ben, living didn’t seem fair because he wasn’t around to enjoy his life with me, I had failed him for my selfishness,–“_ Wade about to say out loud how it wasn’t his fault, because he couldn’t have known and was too young to be responsible for, but as if Peter had known, he had looked back up at the camera and smiled – _“which don’t worry, I have forgiven myself because of you, but the point is, moving on and learning to live without a person in your life is heartbreaking and… and confusing. Everything feels wrong, everything reminds you of them, and **the grieving process**_ _is so fucking devastating, but you know what, that’s okay. Not taking care of yourself for a while? Valid. Slipping, and relapsing? It’s okay, you have tomorrow, and the day before that to make it up to yourself.”_ His lips quivered slightly, but a single tear rolled down his eye, which Peter quickly wiped and closed his eyes to compose himself.

_“You aren’t a failure to not care for yourself as you should, or pushing people you care for away, mistakes are what makes us human, but getting stuck in a single moment cannot be your whole life. One person does not define who you are, one moment, one mistake… is not all you are and… and, you know, as painful as standing up once you fall feels like, you do it anyway, and you keep walking with the ache in your knees and the panicky feeling in your chest. You keep moving forward and at some point, you learn to love the scars because they kept healing after you decided a fall wasn’t going to stop you from living..._

_So, darling, babe, love of my life… I want you to live… if–if I am ever gone. Can you do that for me, please? Would you live for me, Wade? Because I need you to live for me, I need you to always want to be better, and I need you to be the hero you’ve become, and remember me when it’s hard, remember me in the roofs of the buildings and grieve, but don’t stop living, because… “_ A sob came out of Peter's throat, raw and painful. It tore Wade apart, as he sobbed freely with him. Wade crawled to be in front of the Tv, and he placed a hand on top of Peter’s heart, he imagined it beat, slowly, he imagined it was warm and electrifying. _“…because I’d be damned if you ever stop being you because we lost. You are not alone babe, I will always have your back, and everyone who loves you does too… Wade. I love you... So, please…_

Live for me, Wade. “

The video cut unexpectantly to a smiling Peter sneakily hiding the camera between some cushions in an angle that recorded the living room and kitchen from his home that was once tidy, safe and beautiful. Peter giggled as he ran away and hid in their bedroom.

Wade came into the picture, with a bag of groceries in his arms _. “Baby boy I’m home!”_ He screamed with a smile, kicking the door closed.

_“Hi, babe! Gimme a second I’m finishing a little something!”_ Was the response of Peter, who sounded extremely excited and happy. Wade laughed at him, walking to the kitchen to put the groceries in the counter.

_“What are you hiding, Petey-pie?_ ” Wade said getting the food out from the bags. He opened the fridge to place the milk and eggs, and while he was giving their room his back Peter came out of the room holding a banner in his hands, with 2 quick thwips he glued it to the roof.

_“You might want to turn around to find out,”_ Peter said, and while Wade turned around with a milk carton on his hand, Peter got on one knee. Wade dropped the milk.

_“Wade Winston Wilson, I’ve been in love with you since the moment you kissed me on the rooftop after saving my life for the first time, I would be the luckiest gay if you agreed to let me be yours forever. No matter what you’ve done, or what you’ll do, I will always love you, and whatever you do, wherever you go, I want to be by your side from now till eternity, because forever isn’t enough. Wade Wilson, would you marry me?“_ Wade was crying before he even said his name the first time, he was nodding and smiling like an idiot through his tears. Peter had done the banner by himself, carefully using his web fluid to write down ‘ _You’re the only pool I’d ever want to swim in’_

 _“You and me baby. Forever”_ Peter said crying slightly while holding the ring in the air. Wade ran to him and swept him off his feet and twirl in the living room with Peter in his arms. They were both crying while laughing. Peter had that flame in his eyes he only got around Wade.

_“YES YES, ABSOLUTELY YES. YOU’RE THE ONLY SPIDER I’D KEEP IN MY HOUSE.”_ And Peter laughed and laughed until they kissed and make out.

Wade would have never know how bright his eyes shone around Peter until he saw Peter’s short domestic cd’s. He had galaxies in every corner of them, he wasn’t going to let those galaxies fade away. Wade wouldn’t let Peter’s memory fade away.

* * *

Ellie arrived at his place after school, to say she was worried was an understatement, her parents wanted to ask her to stop seeing Wade because he wasn’t getting any better, and she wanted to joke with him, and play and feel love like before, even though she knew that wouldn’t happen, before knocking his door, she could smell chimichangas from the other side of the door. And a chill of hope ran through her body so intensely her nose immediately got runny and her eyes swelled with tears.

She knocked, and Wade came to answer the door. It was the first time in a year he’d done that, instead of Ellie just using her keys. He looked exhausted like if all the lack of sleep since he was a kid had caught up to him, his eyes were sunken with dark circles underneath them, but his eyes had a certain strength she hadn’t seen since her dad died. He looked extremely pale and skinny, but he was holding himself up in a different posture than the defeated one he’d been waking up to every day. It looked tired, but new and stronger.

“Dad?” She whispered, holding tightly onto her backpack straps, holding in her tears.

“Hi, baby.” He said smiling, the tiniest smile he’d muster in so long, but it looked real. Sincere and fragile. She reached out to him shakily, as if he could disappear again any second. He could trip down and drown all over again.

“I’m right here, Ellie.” He muttered while crouching to her level, and pulling her into a hug. He didn’t care his shirt was getting soaked by Ellie’s tears, and she didn’t mind all that much that he stank to sweat and fear.

“I’m living for him, Ellie. I’ll remember, we’re okay.” And they cried in the hallway, while the chimichangas got colder, and his heart grew warmer. "We'll be okay, darling."

* * *

_Recordings last forever_

Wade took the habit of recording himself through his step of recovery. His broken heart got mended with golden sunsets, and he cherished the cracks because he could always fix them again, and again and again.

Wade had brought a camera just to record himself. It felt like having Peter right in front of him, recording.

“You know, Webs. At first, it was the hardest thing to get out of the apartment and go back to the hero gig.” He said holding the camera while looking at the sunrise between the skyscrapers.

“But I see you smiling every time I tie up a bad guy and call the police on them.” Wade smiled while looking down at the city lights, noises and people living. “Some gigs are harder without my partner behind me, but I know you’re all around, you know something about energy and space you said that happened when we die, I'll believe that.” Wade took off his mask, and let his tears dry in his eyelashes with the wind.

“I see May every Tuesday and she tells me these ridiculous stories from when you were a kid, and I told her about the amazing spider things you did in and out of your costume.” His scars moved while he smiled. “You know, every day it hurts less to know you’re dead, because as long as I remember you, you’re never really far away, huh Spidey.”

“I love you, Peter Benjamin Parker, I know I’ll see you around.” He grinned at the camera before shutting it off and putting it away in his bag.

He put on his mask, secured the web-shooter on his wrists, and jumped off the building. “I’m living for you, Parker.” He whispered at the sunrise while falling, smiling goofily at his one and only, knowing Peter could hear. Wade aimed the web-shooter at a nearby building, and he let Spider-man catch him in the air, Wade yelled while swinging from building to building.

He would live so that Peter would never die.

**Author's Note:**

> this wasn't meant to end like this, but it did 


End file.
